She had Zephion. If she died and left him behind, what future would await him? True, he was educated enough to survive even if cast out, but she didn’t wish such a harsh life on him.

“That man…”

Zephion forced the words through clenched teeth.

“He’s chasing the intruder. They’ll catch him soon.”

“I’m sure they will.”

Reina replied quietly.

They’ll probably find someone whose death won’t trouble anyone, pin the crime on him, and cut him down before he can even protest. Reina could already see how this would end.

“I’ll protect you from now on.”

“Protecting me isn’t your job.”

“I don’t care. I’m going to protect you.”

A wry smile touched her lips. He couldn’t kill without hesitation the way Kaelid could and truthfully, she never wanted him to. One day, blood would stain this boy’s hands too, but if she could postpone that day, she would.

Reina patted Zephion’s shoulder lightly.

“If you mean it, you’ll have to beat Yuta first, won’t you?”

“If I fight Yuta, it always ends in a draw.”

“Then that’s no different from Yuta protecting me instead.”

“I’ll win—soon.”

“I’m sure you will.”

Yuta was the strongest man in the Berend household—stronger than anyone else there. Zephion seemed to think Yuta was merely “a bit tough,” but Reina knew better.

Kaelid had always been obsessively protective of Reina. No matter where she went, he made sure she was watched over—often by assigning the strongest of his knights to guard her. He probably never imagined that man would end up falling for her… let alone end up in her bed.

Before becoming Reina’s guard, Yuta had been nothing less than Kaelid’s most loyal hound.

‘And yet, he thinks just eight years of training makes him Yuta’s equal.’

It was so very like a child of the man once known as the “Iron-Blooded Baltgar.” At this rate, Zephion might actually surpass Yuta before he even reached adulthood.

She let out a quiet chuckle and gave Zephion a gentle push.

“Pipi, I need to rest now.”

But instead of stepping away, the boy swept her up into his arms.

Before she could even protest, he was already laying her down on the bed.

‘Since when did he get strong enough to carry me so easily?’

Not long ago, he used to wobble just helping her walk, offering his shoulder in place of her cane.

“Sleep, Reina.”

He made no move to leave—instead, he pulled a chair over and sat right by her bedside.

“You planning to watch me while I sleep?”

“Yes.”

“It’s all right. After everything that happened tonight, no one’s going to try sneaking in again.”

“But it’s still scary.”

“I’m not scared.”

‘What’s there left to fear, when Kaelid is capable of killing his own father ‘for her sake’?’

That man was undoubtedly insane. No one in their right mind could behead someone so calmly without a word of warning, without so much as a flicker of hesitation.

“Don’t worry. Just get some rest.”

Zephion gently held her hand. The warmth in his grip made her smile faintly.

“Do you think I’m a child or something, Pipi?”

“I’m protecting you.”

“I told you I’m fine.”

Zephion let out a short sigh, his face full of dissatisfaction.

“It’s because I’m scared.”

His long fingers gripped hers tightly.

“I’m scared something will happen to you, Reina.”

“You really are still a kid.”

“I know. I am a kid.”

It was childish—how he always argued when treated like one, yet in moments like this, accepted it so readily.

Reina gave a soft laugh and reached out with her other hand, gently stroking his dark hair.

“If you’re scared, then fine—we’ll sleep holding hands.”

Zephion leaned forward and rested his upper body on the bed. The position looked painfully awkward, but the stubborn set of his shoulders made it clear he wouldn’t be persuaded otherwise. Reina decided not to try.

“Reina.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m more terrified of something happening to you… than I ever was of facing my own death.”

Only then did she recall what had happened back then—someone had tried to kill this boy once. The memory unexpectedly brought her a sense of relief.

‘Now that Eldan is dead, there’s no one left who’d want Zephion dead.’

Kaelid still lingered in the back of her mind, but even he continued to think of Zephion as just a child. Which meant, in his eyes, he wasn’t even worth killing.

He was forever spouting lines like, “Even a brat is still a man,” but deep down Kaelid regarded this boy as something far beneath him.

Perhaps it was because he had once seen Zephion as a small, helpless child who never even dared to rebel.

Just as Zephion still looked like a child in Reina’s eyes, Kaelid dismissed him as nothing of consequence.

Whenever Kaelid’s blue gaze fell on the boy, superiority, disdain, and indifference swirled together, a silent judgment that Zephion could never rise to his level.

That, Reina suspected, was Kaelid’s true opinion of him.

‘Well, that works in our favor.’

For now Zephion needed protection, and Kaelid’s contempt kept him safe: the boy still couldn’t defend himself, and Reina certainly couldn’t shield him.

Someday, when Zephion was grown and ready to bring House Berend to ruin, she wondered what expression Kaelid would wear as he knelt before the “insignificant” child he had scorned.

Whether she would live long enough to see that day was another question entirely.

“Reina.”

“Mm?”

He called her name again and again; when she didn’t reply, he pressed his cheek to the back of her hand, as if to confirm she was truly there.

“I’ll protect you, Reina—no matter what.”

She answered only with a faint smile.

‘How long will that promise last?’

In a few short years everything would be turned on its head, and Zephion himself might become the “intruder.” If that happened, she would gladly close her eyes and bare her throat—and apologize.

Sorry for ruining his life.
Sorry for scarring his gentle heart.
Sorry for staining his hands with blood, for forcing him to hate, for making him carry guilt over her crippled legs—sorry for everything.

She tightened her grip on his hand.

“Pipi.”

“Yes?”

‘If only you could stay a child forever.’

She thought, swallowing the words. Soon even calling him “Pipi” would have to end.

“Pipi.”

“What is it, Reina?”

“Nothing.”

She replied indifferently, then closed her eyes. She could feel Zephion’s gaze on her, resting quietly. After a moment of silence, he whispered, “Are you asleep?”

“Mm-hm.”

With that single murmur, Reina drifted off to sleep.

***

Everything about Eldan’s death was handled exactly as Kaelid had planned.

They said that the alleged intruder had died while being pursued. Kaelid identified the body, swearing that it was the same man who had broken in.

Thus, Eldan became the valiant father who had died trying to save Yeria’s orphaned daughter, a tale which earned him lavish praise.

At the funeral, the man who had killed his own father appeared more sorrowful than anyone else.

Eldan was buried right beside Yeria, just as he’d always wanted.

‘How horrifying.’

Reina thought, giving a bitter smile as she stared at the paired gravestones. A man who would chase you even into death—Yeria would find no peace, even now.

In a way, it was exactly what Reina had once wished for when her mother died. Just die already, she had thought, again and again—and in the end, he truly had.

Perhaps Eldan was satisfied; after all, he now lay forever next to the object of his obsession.

‘Maybe he did everything knowing he’d die.’

She mused with a soft, soundless laugh. Whether he r*ped her believing his son would kill him, or because she resembled Yeria, or because his madness convinced him she was Yeriah—what did it matter anymore?

Her mother was dead, and Eldan was dead.

The double funerals cast an even deeper gloom over House Berend. The marquisate passed, of course, to Kaelid; he became master of everything.

Only one thing in Reina’s daily life truly changed: the new marquis grew genuinely busy, so his visits became a little less frequent—at most, one day out of every three. Oddly enough, the extra peace suited her.

And after the “intruder” incident, Zephion devoted himself to his training with even greater zeal, convinced now of his own weakness.